


The Arc of Conflict, Fragment e14g,1: The Resurrected Body

by bzarcher, solarbird



Series: Of Gods and Monsters [88]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Consequences, Gods, Having Faith, Inspiration, Magic and Science, Medical Trauma, Medicine, Oasis (Overwatch), Other, Post-Talon, Resurrection, Revelations, Russia, Soldier Enhancement Program, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarbird/pseuds/solarbird
Summary: Alliances, it has been said, are at their weakest on the brink of defeat, and on the brink of victory. After defeating the China Sea omnium, the gods of Oasis offered their help to Russia, to defeat their own Siberian threat, and Russia accepted that offer -  but made additional secret plans of their own.In Oasis - anywhere, really, the gods might roam - the dead do not necessarily have to stay dead. They can be saved. Restored. Revived.To someone like Dr. Ngcobo, or Dr. Ziegler, it might seem merely an act of medical science.But to someone brought back from the dead, it might seem like something else entirely.Of Gods and Monsters: The Arc of Conflictis a continuance ofThe Arc of Ascension,The Arc of Creation, andThe Armourer and the Living Weapon. To follow the story as it appears,please subscribe to the series.





	The Arc of Conflict, Fragment e14g,1: The Resurrected Body

**Author's Note:**

> dirtyclaws has launched [a public fan-run _Of Gods and Monsters_ discord server](https://discord.gg/pDZMpVT) and invites everyone to come join it. ^_^

"...I was dead."

She looked up at the... doctor. Yes. Doctor? Yes. Dr. Ngcobo, of course. Everyone knew him. Since he'd joined the faculty, become a deputy minister, sweeping in out of nowhere, one of the...

 _His eyes are so kind_ , she thought. _They look right through you, but they're so **kind**._

"Yes, you were!" He smiled at her, those eyes of his almost sparkling. "And quite badly hurt, as well."

The joke - such as it was - went a little over the patient's head, and she tried to think about it, but couldn't. _I **was** dead. I had **died**._

"But now, you are fine, I promise. Physically, at least."

 _How did he know..._ She shook her head, as if it needed clearing, but it didn't, and shaking it didn't change anything. In some ways - most ways - her mind felt _very_ clear. Who she was. Who she had always been. Her family, her job. The explosion, getting the call for emergency response. Coming around the corner, past the immigration checkpoint, seeing the wall of fire come at her. All perfectly, perfectly clear.

Dying, too. Dying had hurt. A lot. But then she was not dead any more, and that part was not clear. Everything was clear, except for the part about having been dead, but now, being alive.

And the doctor, with his glowing wings.

Michael looked over the firefighter's chart. "You're just lucky that you had a good helmet. Without it, you wouldn't be in nearly this good condition. Half of your body was... well." He stopped himself. "I shouldn't get you worried. What's important is that it is all over now. You're fully restored - a little better, than before, even. This checkout is purely precautionary."

"I was dead," she repeated, stuck on it, still not quite able to understand it, but knowing it was true. "I _remember_. And now... I am not. And my..."

She felt at her ribcage, looking for, but not finding, the old scar from the tank explosion, five years ago, her first year in the fire service.

"Yes, we fixed that. The injury was in your file - as was the ongoing physical therapy - so we took the liberty of repairing a bit of the older damage. I... hope that wasn't a mistake."

She shook her head, no, glad to be rid of the scar, but that didn't matter right now. Not really. "...I don't hurt. I was dead, there was an explosion, and I died, and now I am alive, and I don't hurt. At all."

"I'm surprised you remember the explosion." He put his PADD down on the small mobile table next to the chair in the improvised recovery centre, just outside the area of worst damage. The air still stank of explosives, but everything had been made safe, the sole surviving "Talon" - Russian - soldier carted off for debriefing, the bodies of his compatriots moved into cold storage.

"We didn't have to do any work to restore memories for you, but the last few minutes before any such severe physical trauma are usually lost. Even to us."

Nazuk nodded, slowly, and the doctor knelt down beside her, offering his hand.

"Are you having problems processing the experience?"

She looked at his hand. _Large, but so delicate. So perfect, like, like a statue. Is he even real?_

"Do you need help?" he asked, motioning towards a nurse, the sign for _come here next_. "Stay with me, officer."

Nazuk took his hand in hers. _Warm. So warm._ She looked up again, at his face, gazing into his eyes. _But real._

Michael listened to the nanites left in her system, reporting Nazuk's condition, still occasionally making tiny repairs, here, and there, and they told him nothing was wrong at all.

"What..." Nazuk breathed, "...I was _dead._ And now I am _not._ "

She took a deep breath, feeling whole, feeling so very, fiercely alive.

"Because of _you_. What _are_ you?"

Dr. Ngcobo gave her a firm look.

"I am a _doctor_. It is what we do."

"Not just that."

He smiled. "I am _just a doctor_. A very good one, perhaps, but still - just a doctor."

"Just a doctor," she said, uncertain.

"Yes," he nodded, making a note for a psychiatrist to follow up. "If I become any more than that, I'll be sure to tell you."

 _He doesn't want the world to know_ , Nazuk thought, the truth - or what her mind had decided had to be true - striking out across her brain. _Of course not. He's here... they're **all** here, aren't they? They're all here, but... in secret. And they don't want everyone to know, yet._

_But they will._

She laughed, joy in the revelation leaping out, and shook her head again, knowing how she needed to react. "I'm sorry. Of course. Of course you are." She blinked a few times, and ran her hands through her short hair. "I'm sorry. I must sound very odd at the moment. It's just all... so..." _ineffable_ "...but I'm okay now. I think."

Michael couldn't help but look a little relieved. _Just a moment of shock, hopefully. Good._ He amended his note to schedule an individual counsellor, not full psychiatrist - but left the recommendation available, just in case. "I can hardly blame you for being shaken up. This has been a highly traumatic event for all of us."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding. "It has."

"We're arranging counselling for everyone who has survived this attack, with the first session tonight. May I schedule you? How's 8pm?"

"8pm. Absolutely. Of course."

He looked over the scans again, the medical systems double-checking his analysis, and agreeing. Physically, at least, she was fine. Better, in fact. As she should be, now.

"Can I count on you, Nazuk? Will you be there?" He made a note for the therapist to make sure she arrived.

Nazuk smiled, stars in her eyes.

"Absolutely."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the seventeenth instalment of _Of Gods and Monsters: The Arc of Conflict_. To follow the story, [subscribe to the series via this link](https://archiveofourown.org/series/972024), rather than to the individual works.


End file.
